"The arms of House Martell display the sun and spear, the Dornishman's two favorite weapons, but of the two, the sun is the more deadly," so said the Young Dragon, Daeron of the House Targaryen, First of His Name, in his boasts that was "The Conquest of Dorne"
Sunspear
House Martell, of the line of Nymeria, Prince and Princess of Dorne, took the Sun and the Spear as their sigil. Took the Sun and the Spear for their seat. And took the Sun and the Spear as their favorite weapons.
And as now, as the sun slowly crept its way up, and as the shadows fell upon the tall and grand walls of Sunspear, the city glittered with gold. Shining and splendid. The great tapestry of azure blue hung above, the sky rolling upon the festivity below, wide and vast, like a sea hung from heaven.
The stroke of the heat, searing from the golden above was enough to make any of those who stood under it to sweat profusely, and one that not even the calming wind from the sea could challenge. Especially those from across the Narrow Sea, those not native to Dorne. The merchants were sweating like pigs, their bellies and their sagging skins all alike. The smell of flesh was not new, no distant stranger for Sunspear. And then, the striking smell of eccentric perfumes, Lyseni and else, hit the air. Every no more than a turn of half-a-hundred heartbeats would they raise their hand to occasionally sweep the sweats off their heads, yet only to repeat it again. Such was life in Dorne.
The people of Dorne guarded their pride zealously, and their wells even more so. For every wealth under the burning sun of Dorne was measured in water just as much as it was in gold. And such quandary only made Sunspear all the more prestigious, a sad truth that was yet as true as it was to be. Even if the Greenblood and Torrentine ran across Dorne, none of the rivers could hold a candle against the wide, flowing rivers native to the Riverland, or to the Great Mander of the Reach.
Such was a life in Sunspear. And now, Sunspear was alive, bustling with life, more so than she ever did. And it shall never die, for it was the seat of the sons of the sun, and no power of the mighty sun, glimmering and glittering, shining and radiant, for not even the heat of ten thousand suns would the sons and daughters of the Rhoynar bow to. For Sunspear thrived in the sun.
Noises and chatterings feasted in the air. Ruckus and commotions. Merchants and traders spoke loud and boastful, and their shouts echoed faintly in the air, carried by the rustling dry wind of the forever summer, rising and falling upon the streets and the alleys. The people haggled and quarreled. Exotic goods from the Free Cities and those from even further East lined up in a series of long bazaars, filling and dominating upon, laddening that of the streets of Sunspear. Wines, drinks, and fruits alike, littered and lined all over the thousand alleys of Sunspear, in between its narrow passageways, which also served as a safe-haven for those running from the wrath of the powerful. It was not a strange sight, running thieves, both children or grown. For in Dorne, the will of survival triumphed over that of fear. No Gods, and no fears ruled a Dornishman's heart.
Queer and queerer goods from the East. The sparkling cerise of vivid pink, belonging to that of the best cherries from across the Narrow Sea adorned the table and stands. The sweet-tasting delight that was the Volantene beets. Silks of otherworldly quality, woven intricately, treasured, and befit of the highest of high lords. All the way across the sea until that of the glorious Yi-Ti, who brought yet even queerer goods, such as their curious drink of pleasant smell, brewed in hot water and from queer leaves.
For hundreds of years, amidst the rest of the squabbling kingdoms in Westeros, stretching to that of the time of the dragons, Dorne enjoyed cordial relationships with the Free Cities better than the rest of the realm. Traders from Free Cities, traders from Qarth, they all ran rampant over the city of Sunspear. Tyrosh, Lys, Myr, to that of Old Volantis. The Qartheen, strangers in a foreign land. The broken daughters of Ghiscar, humbled by the Dragonlords thousands of years ago. The surge of activity began near three years ago. And as the Reach flourished with their voyages, with their strange ships, Dorne didn't stand idly, and immediately dug into the arrival of the new feast. And even if they must contend with the growing trade of the Reach, Dorne did hold a share of its own.
When once, Planky Town was the greatest settlement in the vast desert that was Dorne, Sunspear was now competing for the claim of the coveted title. Never was a ship not docked in its harbor, even that of the far, illustrious, Asshai, who lingered in the shadow at the end of the world.
In the splendid Sunspear, three massive Winding Walls protected it from the foes of House Martell. The walls encircled upon one another, dozens and dozens of narrow passages among them, cluttering with the swirling crowd, forming one of a convivial labyrinth.
Among the circling walls, stood the proud Threefold Gates. Lined upon one another, the gates stood each behind the other. Mighty and domineering, the gates rose amidst the busy passages of the labyrinth. Upon them was a passage of brick path, lining down, leading up to that of the Old Palace, the seat of the Martell, from which they ruled Dorne as High Princes and Princesses, as they had ever since the days of Nymeria, ever since the ten thousands ships of Rhoynar made port upon the coast of the Broken Arm of Dorne, and then waged a war to unite the petty kings of Dorne, ending the rule of the Dayne, the Yronwood.
Towering from a great distance, a first sight for anyone who ventured into Sunspear, by land and by sea, were the Tower of the Sun and that of the Tower of the Spear, both of which reigned supreme among the other splendors of the castle. Towering to that of a hundred and half feet, the menacing Tower of the Spear could serve as house to that of the bowed, bent, and broken foes of House Martell. While the Tower of the Sun proved true to its name, a great tower shaped in the shape of a dome. And as the sun was all-encompassing, and implacable, the High Princes and Princesses of House Martell ruled the wild Dorne from atop their seats in the tower.
And as of now, as the envoys of the Free Cities, and envoys of the East came and went, offers and deals in their hands, favors and terms in their minds, it was now that Dorne finally stirred back. Awake and of might
AN: First about this chapter. Since this is a fanfiction, and an AU, I am going with the idea that Sunspear is just as prestigious as Planky Town (Despite the latter being right in the mouth of the Greenblood). One of the reasons is that I find Sunspear much more interesting (ruled directly by the Martells) and also, GRRM left a plothole when he said that during the First Dornish War, when Rhaenys burned down Planky Town, the smoke was visible from Sunspear, which means that the distance between the two couldn't be that much.
Mahesvara98 The idea of Willas betrothed to Sansa is interesting. But at the same time, a suicide. The Reach is already growing strong with its trade and fleet. Do you think Tywin Lannister is going to let a betrothal between the ambitious Tyrells and the daughter of a man who hates him? Plus, Catelyn is smart enough to see that Sansa is worthy of being a Queen of the Seven Kingdoms (at least she has a chance). I also find the stigma against Dorne to be exaggerated much. There are already precedents of Dornish women marrying outside Dorne, mentioned or not. Engaging in sexual activities before marriage is normal in Dorne, and Arianne's 'sluttiness' came from more of her being a rebel against her father. She explicitly mentioned in the chapter 'The Princess in the Tower' in A Feast for Crows, that she would've gladly wed and marry, and to bear heirs for Dorne if Doran didn't keep bringing her insulting matches. (also zoom99)
tgofgp Margaery's hands in marriage is a huge deal. There are Robb Stark, Joffrey/Tommen, and fAegon. Riverlands is going to be bleed, heavily (in nearly every war, it is Riverlands who bled; Conquest, Dance, Robert's Rebellion). And Willas already has a view of the Reach's future military campaign. And being tied down to Riverlands is not his first choice.
Also, I don't think that a purely political story would be much of interest... and the war is kinda exciting for me to try to write. And once again, Willas' interest currently lies in putting House Tyrell as the most favored house, a favorite for his chosen claimant in the future. Also, Arianne's chapter is coming, and we would see the changes in Dorne, and what it could mean for Willas' plans in the future.
